Rapinoe
(UK/USA, 92 min.)
Dir. Rebeca Huntt
Prod. Rebeca Huntt, Dan Cogan, Zoe Potkin, Kate Barry
Programme: TIFF Docs (World premiere)
A well-worn inspirational sports cliché talks about missing 100% of the shots you don’t take. In the case of soccer superstar Megan Rapinoe, one huge kick and a miss brings a disappointing finish to a high stakes game. But flubbing the goal doesn’t faze her. Having the guts to take the shot is what matters, and she kicks hardest off the pitch. As Rapinoe’s story unfolds in this upbeat bio-doc from Rebeca Huntt (Beba), the athlete boasts some extraordinary victories thanks to her courage to take big swings.
Rapinoe charts the story of the soccer star who arguably stakes a claim as the most notable American woman in the sport. Huntt delivers a fiercely feminist biography that salutes Rapinoe for always bringing her A-game on and off the pitch. Rapinoe gets candid in some soul-searching interviews that bring the film lots of heart while extending to notable conversations about queerness, representation, and equity. There’s a selflessness to the accounts, too, which makes Rapinoe a refreshing alternative in a sea of self-congratulatory bio docs.
The athlete recalls how she was naturally drawn to the sport. She shares warm memories about growing up in a working class family and running free with her twin sister, Rachel. Both girls developed a passion for the sport early, and soccer was a family affair. Rapinoe tenderly remembers falling in love with the game while watching her older brother Brian kick the ball around. He inspired her to get into the sport. Their dad was the girls’ coach and Megan was an easy MVP.
The family dynamics are key to Rapinoe as Megan, Rachel, and their parents, Jim and Denise, look back upon some tumultuous years. Megan gets emotional when it comes to Brian, as she shares how soccer was a lifeline for a young man who struggled with addiction and went through a revolving door of legal troubles in a system that failed him. Seeing her hero go to juvenile detention marks a turning point in Rapinoe’s story even though she was only ten when Brian’s troubles began. Those events instilled within her an awareness of systemic failure. Moreover, they offer sparks to fight for a better alternative.
Rachel, on the other hand, offers some great insights in the threads that discuss Rapinoe’s LGBTQ+ activism. Both sisters are lesbians, but the twins share very different coming out experiences. The film tells how Megan came out first, which was a challenge for their devoutly religious mother. Interviews with Denise, meanwhile, show the reality of the family dynamics. This again proves how Huntt often finds power in discomfort. However, it also brought a twist for Megan’s twin sister, as Rachel wasn’t quite ready to put a label on her sexuality. Old photos from high school prom show the girls putting on their best show with male dates, but ultimately finding strength by having each other’s back.
That spirit of supporting fellow women fuels Rapinoe’s career as she takes the women’s soccer team to World Cup victories. Huntt captures the greatest hits of Rapinoe’s years on the field, but thankfully doesn’t go for the Wikipedia play-by-plays that appear too frequently in sports bios. Instead, the success on the field amasses a swell of material to support Rapinoe’s activism. As she leads her team to victories, the players only receive a fraction of the pay that their male counterparts do even though the women kicks the guys’ butts by all accounts. They’re far and away the better team, but penalized by the mentality of the old boys’ club that can’t be bothered to invest in women’s sports.
Rapinoe becomes a strong voice in the fight for equity. Fans rally behind them and cheer “equal pay!” following a triumph on the pitch. Legal efforts to fight the blatant discrimination give the league a chance to respond. Their statement oozes with appalling sexism. They cite men’s perceived biological advantage when it comes to strength and stamina, as if a Y chromosome endows them with extra perks and responsibilities. However, the results of the men’s team suggests the opposite. It’s great material for Rapinoe and Rapinoe as the player and doc happily take the nugget that the league hands them. Megan leads a rousing reminder that it’s smart to invest in women’s sports.
It’s not all rosy, though, as Rapinoe shows how those who stick their necks out often pay dearly. Injecting an unabashed feminist voice into pro sports, and doing so as a visibly queer woman, invites vitriolic responses. The sexism and misogyny becomes twofold when Rapinoe follows the example of player Colin Kaepernick and takes a knee during the national anthem to protest police brutality against Black Americans.
Her support for the Black Lives Matter movement echoes her early observations of Brian’s recurring run-ins with the law. It’s a moving example of the power of doing the right thing and not just waiting around to move when the issue applies to you. Her teammates don’t follow suit, however. Fans boo her and sports commentators and pundits decry her like she’s Natalie Maines chirping George W. Bush. As with the fight for equal pay, her activism opens up the appalling double standards of the sports and entertainment industry and the vitriolic fandom it breeds.
Huntt packs a lot into this story, deftly weaving narrative and thematic threads as snugly as she mixes gorgeous 16mm shots with more conventional digital images. Aesthetically and artistically, Rapinoe has echoes of Huntt’s debut feature Beba and delivers on the promise of that lyrical first feature. Admittedly, I wasn’t as big a fan of Beba as others were, since Huntt’s self-portrait sometimes made me squirm, but Rapinoe builds upon that demand for vulnerability and authenticity that helped the director assert herself as a talent to watch. Huntt sure knows how to treat a participant’s story respectfully and honestly having first turned the camera upon herself.
